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schizowitchic · 10 months ago

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thing my mum is currently mad about: that i am not helping with the housework (ive literally been home all day with a migraine and period cramps so bad i can barely stand, as well as being exhausted bordering on sleep deprived from exams for the past week).

massive vent under the cut that goes super off topic.

tw for fatphobia and mild ableism and mentions of suicidality and poor mental health

like be more mad at my siblings who are not ill and perfectly capable of helping? before he left (hes away for the weekend) my dad was like "make sure to help ur mum this evening since im away so i cant" like hello? im literally ill at the moment. i get that my mum is super stressed and tired as well but like. right now. im literally physically ill. ive had almost ten full blown panic attacks in the past week.

ALSO ive tidied and hoovered my room, i collected wood from the shed in the garden from the fire, and changed all the hand towels over to clean ones so it's not like ive done nothing at all. ive emptied and refilled the dishwasher as well. plus whenever she's said "can you get this for me" ive gotten up to get it for her.

furthermore she hasn't asked us to do specific tasks so like. i have no idea what needs doing. im always available to do stuff if im directly asked (bc it's not like i can refuse without getting complained at all evening) so idk how im meant to telepathically know what house work she wants us to be doing. and even when we do help she always complains that we dont do it in the right way but never tells us what to do just complain about how incompetent we are

like im gonna be honest i just end up feeling less motivated to keep even my own room tidy. and that im constantly never enough for her. bc even when im sure ive done all the things i should. theres always something else i shouldve known how to do, or that bc ive never done it before that somehow erases that ive made process

for example she's always on at me about shaving and washing my face and etc. and like. im mentally ill. it is such a struggle to get up and get clean each day. and i was super proud of the fact that i now manage to clean my face at least once a day every day now. but that's not enough for her is it "you should be washing your face twice a day". and i was like "but surely one is better than the none it was before" and she just gave me a look like i was being ridiculous. and she's always on at me about shaving hair from my legs, getting rid of hair on my face and my back. i never was selfconscious about my appearance until she said i would be bullied for having hair, until she used the words "rolls of fat" to describe my stomach, until she said the slight bulges on the back of a dress were unflattering and would make people bully me, until she said that i needed to lose weight and exercise more. (for context on how ridiculously fatphobic this is. im skinny. i have high metabolism. but that's not enough for her)

the worst part is that she has no idea how harmful this stuff is. she thinks this is how to show she cares. that she's doing it for us. to the point where i feel bad putting this rant out onto the internet where like 5 people will see it. but then. just bc i know she loves me doesnr mean i feel like im loved.

like. im not even allowed to be tired or stressed without her saying how her job is so much worse so she has it so much worse (not like she witnessed my mental breakdown aged 15 not like she's accompanied me to mental health appointments for anxiety). we both had covid at the same time and whenever i was like "damn i feel like shit" well guess who felt like even more shit? and she always says how we get more days off if we're sick and it's like. you control how many sick days you have. plus she'll complain about how she never gets to rest and stuff but like i see her resting???? and also. im expected to still help out if we've gone on a long hike all day (i have severe joint pain) but im meant to be able to continue past that and not let it stop me

also neither her or my dad will say the word autism. it's always "neurodivergent" "neurodiverse" (why i not always a fan of "neurodivergent traits are x") they won't tell my siblings i cant discuss my pending diagnosis with them in front of my siblings like it's some bad thing that needs to be hidden. bro its just autism.

idk my main issue is that she complains about how i sit around on my phone/reading and it's like. well. do you even know how much i have to distract myself to stay alive. but she's really fucking annoying when she's concerned for my wellbeing (like toxic positivity. meditate do yoga solve all your problems type shit). lmao whatever whatever im going to uni this year

#personal #vent #dont touch #don't touch #probably delete later #delete later

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nahalism · 1 year ago

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howwwww ddid you manage to study and get a darned degree within a scheduled academic reality with your impulsive and random spurges of energy/inspiration¿¡ is it survivable most of my friends r systematic, somehow collected, motivated in a beauutiful steady way that’s typically required in higher ed and i just¡ do not¡ relate¡ loove you hope you are breathing easy🫶🏻🫶🏻

lool man.

the truth is, i did get the degree, but the process was not as heroic as ur question makes it sound. the determination to finish came from a genuine passion for literature, but also cause i didnt want to drop out and have debt, but no degree to show for it. everytime i looked for an excuse to quit, i had my mum telling me 'i only had a year left and could pursue what i wanted to when i was done'. — she was right, but i dont think right means it was the only way to do things. i think my approach was courageous, but also very based in fear and lack of self believe. so whilst i dont regret it, and its part of what got me to build that self believe and faith over fear, there are times i question if dropping out and pursuing my 'spurges of inspiration' would have been the braver and more rewarding choice. it may or may not have been, but i cant answer that cause its not the path i chose.

how i did it was a matter of programming my mind. sounds cliche, but as ive said before i fanaticised over ways i could effectively 'hack my mind' so that regardless of what i thought felt and was going thru, i could not just perform, but overcome the barriers that made it hard for me to perform. (i have a ask with book recommendations and loads of those books were part of the resources that saw me thru). that process was ugly at times, full of extreme stress, insomnia, extreme highs, crazy lows, smatterings of episodes where i was so exhausted and had pushed my body, psyche and emotional state to such extremes that i was full on out of it and a shell of a person. i was sent to my uni therapist and psychiatrist multiple times, and my family were concerned for my wellbeing. i spoke to my professors one on one maybe a maximum of two times. i barely had friends and a social life because my mental state was so poor, and the friends i did have i was constantly paranoid about losing cause i felt like i had no energy to meet up with them call them or maintain a relationship with them. i had consistent insomnia and near to no quality life. and i pursued art, writing and non degree related passions only because i sacrificed doing the other stereotypical university things my friends were doing.

im not saying this to be a victim. i rate myself highly and respect myself for what ive been able to achieve, but i dont want to say all the good w out contextualising the reality of how bad it actually was. i love learning but the the institution of education itself was hell for me 2 b honestly quite insufferable. i dont know how i survived if not for sheer will

the only advice i can give you is try to have a schedule. dont compare yourself to others, just do your best, find what your passionate about re: your degree, set a personal goal of what you want to achieve, and hold on to that blindly. have people around you that will let you break down and vent about what your finding difficult without judgement. & its awkward but if you can find someone in ur unis pastoral care department that knows what your going thru and will check in to see if your doing good or struggling. above everything, life is short and not promised. follow ur urged and ur inspiration cause thats the only thing thats real and only thing that will keep ur spirits up when times are hard. skills and experience are more important than degrees

sending u a huge hug and all the luck in the world. it might be hard but its not impossible!!! u got this

#ask

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pinksparklelps · 2 years ago

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I just

Cant

Rant under cut cuz im probably gonna just go off once i start

I’ve been having fun with ff14, promise, but im just,,, so tired

Ive been playing for 4 hours with boring fetch quests that i hardly can pay attention to. There were too many people for me in one vc and too much talking that was way too loud for me to focus properly. Doesnt help that i was using my osia so they were LITERALLY in my head. I’ve barely had a chance to explore, to do things on my own and see the new world ive been ceremoniously dropped into. And to add onto having to so the same thing over and over for hours Ive been distracted and brought off track by being asked to look at new things, just wait a moment, wanna do this thing? And I just… how can i get past “the most boring part of the game” if i cant even do one quest without being shown 3 different birds and a couple of emotes. I like the help, i like my friends, i like not being alone in a new environment, but i just feel like im being weighed down by not only people around me but by the game itself. I want to keep going but I already feel burned out despite enjoying my time online. I havent been able to focus at all for these past few hours because so much was happening all at once and i was never given a single second to process a thing. The only thing i really remember is naming one guy garfield and hitting stone thousands of times.

Its almost 3 am now but i dont think ill be able to sleep despite how exhausted i am from hours of overstimulation

#vent?#maybe?

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irastayshome · 2 years ago

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Every night now is a blur, as I find myself numbing myself with dishes, or netflix, or just watching video after videos of us. I recall all those nights where you did the same, after your dad passed on.. So many arguments about you losing yourself in your game world and checking out from our family, when what you probably needed was me asking you how you were feeling. You never really had much time to process it, having welcomed Idris barely 2 weeks before ayah died. Here i am now, grieving and longing for you, doing the exact same thing i had asked you to snap out of, unintentionally.

Tonight i stumbled on this old photo of Ibrahim's 1st bday party. I was struck by my dad. He looks so thin and worn down now, compared to 5 years ago. Parkinsons, heart failure, stroke.. how in the world was he able to survive all that, and still be with us through the worst few months of our lives? It is all by God's will. He chooses our path, and only He holds the truth and the reason for it. I could not have survived those months without my folks checking in every few days. So many nights crying next to you, while you were still living and breathing, because deep down.. i knew it was coming. I think we both knew. We just needed someone else to say it for us, and when Dr Farid did, for the slightest moment, my heart unclenched and had some room to breathe. "So this really is it." The not knowing, hoping but not having much to ride on, was incredibly exhausting. At last, I could hug you and hold you and cry with you, without feeling guilty or making you feel sad that i'd given up. Knowing the end was coming was heartbreaking and liberating at the same time.

Now, though, im finding it hard to get back up to speed, despite the children depending on it. I watch tv, numbing the intrusive memories of our sofa and all thats happened there.. our fights, our lazing around, weekly movie nights with the kids and us all squashed together asleep infront of the tv, massages after work, amazing couch sex, lots and lots of junking on chips and ice cream (thats you)...

It all happened so seemingly unintentionally on that couch, yet that couch is where I find you every night now. Your touch, your hug, your smell, your snores, the sound of your bike in the night and me waiting about 8 mins before I hear the sound of those keys and finally find your embrace after a long long day with the kids. There cant be a lot of people who ride your kinda bike in this neighbourhood bcoz its been awhile since ive heard it at night. Once, though, i did. And i instantly thought "hes back at last!" and then right after, i felt the wind leave my chest for a second when i recalled that it cant be you.. not anymore.

I have no purpose to these posts, though in an alternate universe, you would be able to read them in some sort of newsreel in the grave or afterlife. I just wish you knew how much you are not forgotten. You must know this.

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princeanxious · 4 years ago

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why cant college be even a little bit fun

like why does it feel like pulling teeth to get anywhere

#maybe this is just a neurodivergent take but like #idk ive always struggled in school and rn im still feelin that struggle #i dont feel even the slightest bit motovated to do my college work right now even though I know I have to #but this isnt fun #this isnt even motivating #why does the process to get to be able to do adulting have to be so harsh and bland #all i want to do is paint canvases and sew pictures into patches and write fantasy stories and read and #instead i have to work with a group of strangers ill never meet for a project thats only barely thought provoking(bc i do still like math) &#-do a fuck done of reading to learn how to write essays the college way when I have never been able to conciously connect to the process of-#-how to write essays *with meaning behind them* in my life because understanding how neurotypical think is really fucking hard #maybe im just spiralling #because rn its become a toss up #do i wanna spend my day waking up- working on school work till im exhausted and then sleep and repeat?#or do i wanna put that off for a couple of hours i wont get back to do something interesting #because i spend 70% of my day exhausted and 30% awake enough to function #maybe im just not cut out for this. or anything really

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rotshop · 3 years ago

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Oh geez long ask, take it easy. Uh, well an idea I’ve had for a little that I really like but have not really many ideas for is like an s/o who just doesn’t purr. They can and there’s nothing wrong with their ability to purr, but for some reason they just never do it, they don’t get why either. It’s just a thing. I don’t know who to pair the s/o with, all I had for the idea is that s/o is with someone and that someone in a moment gets to hear them purr. I think the idea makes sense? -Echo

CNANNOT stop thinking abt this so im answerig it now so i can excorcise whatever fuckgin demon u put in me with this ask /pos

pls consider ; s/o makes some noise other than purring (ex. squeaking / squealing, huffing, chirping, etc etc) to show they're happy and their respective partner just has no fucking clue what it means / it takes them a bit to go 'oh hey wait a minute , THATS their version of purring.' or whatev ,,,,

i did a two short lill hc sets w/ this in mind lol ,,,,,,,,,,,,, ignore typos its 4am and im jetlagged <33333

Hofnarr

-chances are you don't purr because you're just that exhausted / stressed out. sure, others are able to most times but for one reason or another the stress seems to effect that part of you a little more than it does others. you've just kinda. been like that for so long now bc of all the stress working under phobos brings and so ur body / mind is always just kinda (at least somewhat / distantly) in panic mode so u never calm down / relax enough to rlly purr

-hof is the opposite !! he doesn't full on purr too too often but he makes a lot of trills / chirrup noises when he's particularly excited / happy. chances are when he notices u walk into a room he unintentionally starts purring lmao ,,, it DOES make him a little sad that you don't purr or make a whole lot of 'happy noises' like he does but!! that's ok ,, he's just kinda learned to accept it over time

-there was one time you were REAALLL burnt out. you'd been working on some little project phobos had given you for days and days on end now and it was tearing you to shreds. you had it mostly done by this point but given how you could just barely remember things from 5 minutes ago and you kept dropping shit it was gonna take a lot longer to finish in this state ,,,, he manages to drag you away from your work and make you get some rest. ur stubborn tho and make him stay with you so u knw he's resting too lol

-you're laying with your face in the crook of his neck while he's tracing little patterns on your back, focusing on making sure he isn't pressing too hard or anything like that

-it takes him a while to notice the newer, quieter noise alongside your little breaths. it's shaky and kinda fades in and out, unsteady with lack of use but as SOON as he realizes what it is he has to stop himself from kissing you right then and there or waking you up with some trill or whatever

-it makes him so so happy knowing he's probably one of the few people you've purred around and that you feel comfortable enough to, he's riding the high for the next few days and he keeps thinking about it ,,,, hope u like purring bc he's gonna try and make you do it again and again /hj

Phobos

-ur probably an agent / soldier of his who ranks real high, ur kinda like his second in command or whatev its called. same kinda deal ; ur way too stressed and constantly in fear of your life being taken to really chill out enough to purr. he doesn't do it very often either except when he's watching some plan of his come to fruition or when he's asleep ,,,

-he's gotten used to ur guys' relationship being pretty professional (aside from the banter and the fact that he definitely doesn't care this much about someones hobbies or interests if they arent you and that he most certainly wouldn't ask one of his soldiers were doing if they werent you, of course) and so he just kinda. randomly notices it. ur both just hanging out and talking with one another and it just clicks that 'huh. ive never heard them purr'

-it makes him a little insecure SFHFRJVSWVSFKEF 'what do you MEAN you aren't so head over heels for me that you're little more than a purring content little mess for me, what am i doing wrong .' like at first he doesn't think too deep on it but then he just keeps remembering and it keeps putting him on edge

-he tries his best to get you to purr as soon as he can but like ,,, it just doesn't work ,,,, even having dinner with him or something your brain is still vaguely just kinda in danger / kill mode on the back burner of itself. it just makes him dig himself deeper lol

-BUT. there's a specific night where you're just kinda staring out one of the windows in your guys' little shared home of sorts. no real reason or anythign behind it you're just kinda. looking down at the scenery. the distant lights of the city outline you in color and luminescence like a halo and he's just kinda stuck staring at you from across the room

-after a breath or two he's walking over and wrapping his arms around your waist and tightening his grip till you're pulled up securely against him. as he's placing a little kiss between your shoulder and your neck he notices the sound and freezes up immediately

-he has to like. process it for a solid minute or too. hope u arent the type to get nervous / paranoid bc it's!!! a little nerve wracking for ur bf to hear u purr for the first time and then just go into like shock abt it with no comment or anything for a solid few minutes

-you know you're good though when he's tightening his hold on you further and you can feel his teeth against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck with a grin

#iugh ..... im so tired man #i keep blinking and almost meeting god /j #i an simply going to rest soon and when i do im going to gointo a fuckign coma. im hibernating early bithces #welcomg to rotshop can i get you a PHUCKING hofnarr . /ref #dr hofnarr x reader #phobos x reader #director phobos x reader #madcom imagines #madcom x reader #madness combat imagines #madness combat x reader #rot writes #ok im ogig to sleep now. maybe. hoepfully #ill proof read this in the morning

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wickedpact · 4 years ago

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What is your head canon for bad habits/behaviors that Joe and Nicky haven’t been able to break in 900 years? We know Booker is an alcoholic. Andy’s bad habits? Nile’s bad-habits-to-be?

nicky has a gambling addiction

well actually i dont think he has a gambling addiction BUT i do think that at least at SOME point in history his little habit of betting/gambling got out of hand and someone had to intervene. its something he has a lid on nowadays but it was bad once

something i always think abt for joe is how he's fairly impulsive for a 900 year old guy. ive talked about this before but hes kind of this combination of impulsive & passionate; he reacts intensely to pretty much everything, even in situations that the other immortals barely react to. i mean, in the van joe & nicky got homophobia'd and nicky's reaction was to make a sad face and joe's was a 2 minute Speech. he headbutted merrick while surrounded by armed guards, his reaction to booker's betrayal was the most intense out of all of the others, etc etc. hes just very Out There all the time. which like.. dont get me wrong, i am Not criticizing him here. i love that abt him. but i CONSTANTLY think, like, okay, if hes like this at NINE HUNDRED YEARS OLD what was he like in his 30s? what was he like as a teenager?????? he was probably a menace.

with andy i almost feel like all of her bad habits/flaws are rooted in coping mechanisms. like 80% of her personality is just one big Unhealthy Coping Mechanism. mean/rude/short? she lives in a constant state of Immortal Exhaustion, she deserves it. insistent need for independence? shes gone thru the process of getting attached & losing so many people that she doesnt want to get attached to anyone else. secretive/bad at communication? shes 7000 years old, im sure explaining her thought process to any living person at any given time would require several illustrated diagrams and a brief history lesson. excessive drinking? well if i was her i would want to turn my brain off as often and as thoroughly as possible.

nile's bad habits are an interesting prospect bc i imagine immortality could either whittle away at your bad habits or exacerbate them. and im not really sure what i would say of nile's bad habits bc we largely see the best of her in tog. we see her quick thinking, her emotional strength, her self-assurance. she has a soldier's discipline and doesnt seem to overindulge in anything- shes the only character who we never see drink alcohol. shes confident and determined but knows when shes beaten, shes quick on the uptake, shes easy to love, she's open & honest about her feelings, and like, wow,she adjusts to the whole immortality thing VERY well. the only thing i can think of is that she grows to trust & gain loyalty towards these Weird Old People pretty startlingly fast. stranger danger, nile. stranger danger.

#Anonymous

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theworldwithoutmagic · 5 years ago

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Decompression - zutara ff

Just wrote this oneshot thursday so its CONTENT HOT OFF THE PRESS.

Im fresh off a rewatch of A:TLA and I finished Southern Raiders on wednesday with a Mighty Need to write a missing scene. I was so striken by Zutara feels that I had to bang out this one shot in a single day.

Here is 3000 words of shameless enemies-to-bedsharing-trope. Set in missing scene during Southern Raiders.

I really need feedback as iv never written zutara before and idk if I have their Voices down. concrit welcome as id like to improve before a longfic. PLEASE message or comment.

i also need blogs to follow..

So here we gooooo

—————————————–

Katara and Zuko stop to rest and talk about what happened that day. They get a little closer than expected. Zuko wonders how he became so lucky.

Zuko looks up from Appa’s saddle at Katara, seemingly just as determined to get back quickly as she was on the way here. She is beautiful, he thinks to himself not the first time, even now leaving the scene of an almost murder. Her wrists were flicking occasionally, bending the water in the clouds around them to give them a modicum of safety from any eyes that might look to the skies. He knows she must be exhausted at this point. He saw see the circles under her eyes hours ago. Appa himself is starting to slow down and he knows this pace can’t last forever.

“Katara, we have been flying for hours and Appa needs to rest.” He didn’t mention Katara herself. He knew without asking that she would not appreciate any comments on her ability to keep going. He hoped she might stop and process some of what happened today instead of going full speed back to their training regimen. His uncle would have said so, at least. The day was a lot more intense than even he expected.

“What we need is to get back to Aang. The comet is approaching and this was a waste of time,” Katara said.

“We won’t make it back to Aang at all if Appa collapses and we land in the middle of a fire nation village. Look at him. His eyes are starting to droop.” It was true, the bison was not at full strength. Katara did not turn around but her shoulders dropped a bit. She wouldn’t want to hurt Appa.

“So, where do you have in mind we stop? This is the middle of the fire nation and you are pretty hard to miss,“ she said.

“We can make camp in one of the many caves in this region. Look how rocky it is down there. I know that is how your gang usually hides from the fire nation. I think I see a decent spot down there right now,” he pointed down to an outcropping of rock high on a hillside, protected on all 4 sides from direct view.

Katara remained silent. “If this is some kind of trick Zuko…”

He tamped down the biting response he wanted to give. “Katara, I would not have come here with you and helped you find a firenation ship and captain just to trap you in a random cave. Appa needs rest, that’s it. So do I. and you,” He said, the last bit under his breath.

“Fine.” She said, after looking him in the eyes and finding some answer she wanted. “But only until sunrise. We don’t have time for this.” She snaps the reigns and directs Appa back around towards the overhang. He is relieved she agreed.

When they land, Zuko inspects the cave. It’s not so much of a cave as it is a large overhanging rock. It’s not deep, but big enough to hide a bison in. Unfortunately, he deduces they won’t be able to have a fire tonight. The smoke and light might attract too much attention. They will have to eat from the dried stores and sleep in the dark. He knows Katara will agree with him about the fire. Katara…

He had no idea she was so strong. He keeps thinking back to the sea raven ship. He is pretty sure she bended a living person. Not supposed to be possible, but he guesses there is much he does not know about water bending.

Even now, her back is ramrod straight and she is standing in front of her bedroll a little lost looking now that they arent moving towards a goal. He promised to help her on this mission but he is the last person who knows how to help her with the aftermath. He isn’t sure what he expected from this trip.. things went very differently than he imagined. She needs to talk her brother or Aang or literally anyone other than him, he thinks. He considers that he might be a monster for even suggesting this murder mission as he leads Appa under the rocky overhang.

With the Bison in the “cave” with them, there is not a ton of room. He puts his bedroll by Katara’s where there is a little space and dry ground and pulls out the last jerky they have. Its stale and he thinks he can start to taste the beginnings of mold on his piece. They were preserved in a hurry and it’s been a little too long since the group resupplied. But its food and it’s all they have. He holds one out to Katara.

“Uh, you should eat something.” He tries, “It has been a long day. We have a lot of flying to do to get back to Aang.” Damnit, but it’s not just about the flying. He doesn’t know how to breech this subject.

“Of course we do, Zuko.” She whips around, “I am fine. I didn’t even want to stop.” She still takes the jerky and rips into it. She finally leans back against the wall of the cave, sitting on her bedroll. He watches her face and almost panics. Her eyes are shining with unshed tears and she is nowhere near sleep tonight. It races through his mind again that she faced her mother’s murderer today and is somehow still standing.

“Ok.” is all he says for a while. He has to say something else. What would uncle say? What would the Avatar say? He doesn’t know. He knows she might need more than he can give. In the end he says nothing and silently berates himself. He knows sleep will be a long time coming for both of them.

It starts to rain. He looks out of the wet, terrible cave into the storm. The rain is beautiful in a way. It runs in shining rivulets down the other pale rocks, the nearly full moon reflecting in the puddles, and he tries to imagine what it would be like to bend water instead of this horrible fire. He starts talking and hopes he’s not ruining things again.

“The rain is nice. I’ve always loved the sound. As a child I never hated the rain as much as the other fire benders in the palace. The rain restored the land. Brought life back to the burn scars in the garden from our training.” Then, as an afterthought, “The turtleducks loved it, too.” He thinks that’s what got her to speak.

“It never rained in the south pole. Always snow. I didn’t see the rain until I left with Aang. Standing in the rain for the first time and feeling the pull of each raindrop at the southern air temple is one of my favorite memories.” Katara said. She is staring into the growing tempest outside now too. “I always hoped I would get to see it. My mother used to tell me about the rain from her travels with dad.”

She is sitting against the wall very close to him. The thought crosses his mind that if he scooted over, he could reach out and touch her. He doesn’t think he should. Instead, he quietly, so quietly hes not sure she can hear it over the rain, asks, “Do you want to tell me about her?” He closes his eyes and waits for the anger.

“I would like that.” She whispers. “My mom was not a bender. Her father and both of her sisters were. She lost them all to the fire nation before I was born.” More pain and suffering at the hands of his people, he thinks to himself. “My mother was still powerful in her own way. I remember she helped our tribe remember how to create houses without water benders. There was a while we thought our tribe could not survive without benders to keep the ice at bay. How would we do anything without benders to make new ice houses? But she figured it out.”

Zuko realized all over again what cruelties the fire nation had forced on her people. Taking away the benders of a tribe completely reliant on it for survival. It was only through sheer force of will they were still here. He lets her continue.

“My mother was the best cook in the village. Sokka thinks my cooking is good, but I learned only a little for her before she die- before she was killed.” Tears leaked from her eyes now and her voice shook. “The worst part is Sokka is right. I barely remember her now.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough, especially from me. I really hoped that by taking you to her killer I could help you. Help you get closure and a bit of payback. I see now that was a mistake and I’ve made it worse” He chokes out. The whole trip was a mistake. She would never trust him now either, being reminded of all the sins of the fire nation.

“It wasn’t a mistake. Zuko I thought that by coming here I could finally get revenge. Aang was right about that. I was not seeking justice or closure. If my mother’s killer had been that man on the ship, I think I would have killed him.”

The man she had.. bended. He knew she was not lying right now. “Katara, whatever you did to him, he.. he deserved it.”

“No, he didn’t.” She was still trying to hold back her tears and failing. “I bended his blood Zuko. A technique I swore I would never use. I was just so angry! He had the gall to stand there on the ship meant for raiding my people and claim he didn’t know what I was talking about. Probably just coming from another murderous raid against another town. There was water everywhere, we were on a ship! But I reached inside him and took something that should never be taken. I could do that right now to you, or anyone else.”

Zuko’s eyes widened. Blood bending. He hopes that man never realizes what exactly she did to him. The fire nation would not stop until every waterbender was extinct if they knew that was possible. He is in awe of the woman beside him. “Katara, I think you are amazing.” He blurts out, before he can even explain.

She barks out a half laugh, “What? Zuko you SAW it-”

“Yes, and that is the first time I have ever seen it. Iv chased you all over the world and seen you fight many times. All those times, you didn’t use that power. Do you know what the fire nation would be doing with that power if they had it? Marching people right into prison camps. Stopping a whole fleet of human hearts before the battle even starts.” He meets her eyes now, “But this blood bending you can do… you didn’t even hurt the man with it. If there is one place its justified to lose yourself, I’d say on your mother’s killer is one. The restraint you show in not using it against every one of your enemies, your enemies who have murdered your family for generations, is more than I have ever had. I would use any weapon at my disposal against Azula or my father if I thought it would give me an edge. You’re nothing but good and even more powerful and amazing than I thought.” He means it. and he hopes she can hear it in his voice.

She only cries more and he thinks he’s made things worse, his eyes close and his heart drops- then he feels her hand on his shoulder. “Is this ok? Zuko, I.. I don’t want to sit alone right now.” She looks exhausted in the weak light of the moon filtering through the storm as she leans into him. He almost forgets to answer.

“Yeah, this is fine, this is.. this is fine.” Zuko doesn’t know what to do. He has never been able to comfort anyone with his touch. He slides his arm around her shoulders because thats what it seems like she wants. She exhales shakily and turns further into him and his heart skips a beat. She is warm in the chilly air and clinging to him like she needs it to breath. She is almost in his lap and he has already never been this close with anyone.

“I’m not as strong as you think Zuko.” she whispers into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry for how angry I’ve been at you. I knew this whole time, ever since the South Pole, there has been good in you too. I just didn’t want to be wrong again, after the crystal caves so I lashed out. I was fighting my instincts to trust you. This journey just proves to me again that I was right from the beginning.” A pause, her tears coming harder. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess right now.”

“Il do whatever you need of me Katara.” He says quietly, instead of what he wants to say. I need this too. You are stronger than I think. Don’t ever leave this spot. He tightens his embrace and she does too.

They listen to the storm outside. Finally, Katara sobs openly against him. He rubs circles on her back and lets her cry. He doesnt press her to talk anymore. He breaths into her hair and can’t pinpoint what he has done to earn this trust, but he will do everything in his power to make sure she is never this upset again. If he has to personally kill every fire bender who has wronged her. Eventually her sobs clear and she relaxes, still not letting go of his shirt. They fall into steady silence, with only the sound of the rain outside, and he can only think of how wonderful it feels to be a comfort to another person instead of a source of pain.

It gets steadily chillier in the cave and he eventually releases her to reach for her blankets and pull them over her shoulders. He’s not going to push her off anytime soon, he will let himself freeze to death and not sleep a wink if she needs it. When he brings his arms back around, Katara still doesn’t speak and pulls them down from their sitting position leaning against the wall. His heart is about to beat out of his chest and he knows she can probably feel it. She pulled them so he’s lying down on his bedroll and placed her head on his chest like she means to sleep this way.

Zuko is absolutely frozen. One of her knees is resting on his thigh, her arms are around his torso, and she is so soft. He wants to curl around her. He wants to express something unnamed.

“Zuko, you home?” He can hear the smile in her voice. At least she is feeling better, his racing mind supplies. “I hope this is ok too. Please.”

He stiltedly brings his arms back around her now prone form. He lets one of his long legs tangle with hers. His shirt rides up and her fingers are quick to find a bit of his skin. He doesn’t know if this is right but it feels like it is. He sighs and tries to live in this moment forever before he speaks and ruins it.

“Katara, I just don’t want you to regret any of this tomorrow and realize that I’m the enemy again. I don’t know if I can take it if you hate me again tomorrow.” He admits. He pulls her even closer anyway. Every part of their bodies touching. Gods she feels so good against him. Like she was made to be there. Why has he never done this with anyone before? “And iv never…” He tries to pick the right words. “I’ve never been this vulnerable with anyone.”

“I promise you that I won’t hate you again. I’ve wanted to trust you for so long and truthfully, I already did. I wouldn’t have come with you if I didn’t.” Katara said, “This was not easy for you either. Offering to take me across the world where we planned to murder a man from your country in cold blood. I would have never known who killed my mother without you and no one else in my entire life would have come with me for this. Aang and Sokka never understood what I needed and they still don’t. I love them both but I knew you wouldn’t judge me no matter what I chose, even if I was rude to you this whole time.”

“I could never judge any choice you make.” He shivered and lowered his face to her hair. “I’ve admired you since I met you. Even when I sent pirates after you. I really hoped you would choose my side then. I’m glad you didn’t now.”

Katara seems embarrassed for a moment and squirms. He jerks slightly when a knee brushes an intimate part of him and he feels a slight grin from her against his shoulder. He has no idea if that was an accident but his head is spinning. She speaks, “I know fire nation royalty aren’t particularly touchy feely.” She runs a slender hand down his ribcage and he struggles not to let on how much the sensations are affecting him. “but my people are. and it has been what seems like a lifetime since anyone has just let me cry and comforted me like a human. Even when I was still at home.. our village lost so many of its softer customs to the demands of war.”

“The only people who have ever even hugged me in my entire life were my mother and my uncle, Katara.” He admits, embarrassed too. “I.. you.. this is nice.” he settles on. Nice doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Katara only hums. He feels her sigh contentedly and hopes she is done teasing him. Katara is pushed against every plane of his body and he thinks his heart might still fail from how lucky he is to have earned her trust despite everything between them. Her breaths slow until he is sure she is asleep. The rain still falls outside and he watches her and he watches the rain and just feels until finally the warmth and contentment begins to pull him toward sleep. His last thought is about how he hopes he will get the chance to do this again one day… tomorrow they have to go back to the Avatar and face their destinies.

#zutara #zutara ff #zutara fanfiction #atla #avatar #pls respond #im a decade late #is the fandom still alive

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morinokunikara · 5 years ago

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Altschmerz w/ mishima mayhaps owo

Altschmerz: Weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that you’ve been gnawing on for years.

IM SORRY THIS TOOK A WHOLEASS MONTH TO RESPOND TO LIFE HAS BEEN HELL AND IVE ONLY RECENTLY GOTTEN THE MOTIVATION TO WRITE DAILY

Anyways I wrote this in my idol school au so enjoy!!!

“One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.”

The cheerful music and Yuuki’s muttered counts echoed through the large, otherwise empty practice room, each step landing softly as he followed the routine he had practiced again and again.

“One, two, three, four. One, two, three four.”

Right, left, spin, hop. Step, step, skip, hop. Cross, right, lef- Shit!

His rhythm was cut off as he tripped over his own legs, and his body met the wood flooring with a thud. “Ugh...damnit.” He crawled to the large speaker next to him and shut it off. The room went silent and he rested against the mirrored wall. Why can’t I get this right? Everyone else has already moved forward... He brought his knees to his chest with a sigh, and mentally went over the routine again.

Step, step, skip, hop. Cross, right, left, step.

It was that left step that got him. Every time, he’d stumble or fall over completely. The rest of his group had it. He was holding them back. If he didn’t figure it out, they wouldn’t pass this audition at all. He’d disappoint everyone. He had to keep trying, for their sake. He pulled himself back up and restarted the music track.

“One, two, three, four.”

Cross, right, left, st-

Thud.

“Damnit!” The fall was particularly painful compared to others. His left ankle twisted as he went to the ground, and he whined as he rubbed the hurt leg.

“That was quite the fall,” A gentle voice came from the other end of the room. The tall, slender figure walked over to Yuuki, kneeling next to him. “Oh...hey, Kitagawa...” Yuuki stopped tending to his leg and looked away. To be caught like this in front of a classmate, especially in front of someone as elegant and handsome as Yusuke Kitagawa. He was one of the best students in his class, and already fairly well known in the idol world. His beauty, his artistic eye, even his frequently eccentric behavior gained him a large fan following. And he just saw Yuuki crash and burn like some kind of newbie.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just believe I forgot my water bottle here.” Kitagawa walked to Yuuki’s side. “You aren’t too hurt, are you? Can you move your leg?” He asked. “Is it alright if I touch it? I just want to make sure it isn’t swollen or anything of the sort.”

Yuuki nodded slowly. He could only hope it wasn't so bad that he wouldn't be able to dance... He watched as his classmate pushed up his left pant leg and looked carefully at the injury. Kitagawa moved it a bit, and Yuuki winced slightly. "Did that hurt?"

"A little..." Yuuki's anxieties grew. Would he be able to dance in time for the next audition?

Kitagawa hummed thoughtfully. "Can you get up and walk around for a little bit?" Yuuki nodded and pulled himself up. He winced at the first few steps, but soon was able to walk through the pain with nothing more than a slight limp.

"I don't believe it's broken," Kitagawa said as he watched. "However, we may need to take you the the infirmary just in ca-"

"No!" Yuuki snapped. He shrunk back when he noticed Kitagawa's startled expression. "Sorry I just- I can't risk having to stop practicing even for a day. I have to get this routine perfect in time for auditions.”

Kitagawa stayed silent for a moment, biting his lip. “Well, if you won’t go to the infirmary, would you at the very least accompany me on a walk? You may be able to just walk this injury off, and return to practice without an issue.

Yuuki hesitated. Could he really afford to take such a break? But then again, walking with Kitagawa, going on a walk with an idol ranked so high above him... It might just prove to be beneficial for him. “A walk sounds fine. As long as it isn’t too long, I want to practice more before lights out.”

The two walked out into the courtyard together. The sun had just barely set, and the first stars of the night were starting to shine through the darkening sky. The cool autumn breeze whipped colorful leaves along their legs, a few of the leaves crunching under their steps as they walked down the concrete path under the canopy of increasingly vacant trees. Yuuki looked down at the leaves under them, unsure of what to say or do. His mind was flooded with thoughts on the situation. He could take this chance to learn what it meant to be a high ranked idol! But what if Kitagawa thought he was using him to get ahead? Or what if he saw other idols as competition and refused, or worse, gave fake, sabotaging advice? Lost in his thoughts, he ended up nearly tripping directly into the fountain in the center of the courtyard.

“Careful. We wouldn’t want you to fall again,” Kitagawa warned.

“Sorry,” Yuuki muttered, looking off to the side. “I must’ve got lost in my thoughts.” He laughed and rubbed the back of his head.

“Here, have a seat.” Kitagawa sat on one of the benches that faced the fountain and patted the spot next to him. “We can walk again when you’re more focused.”

Yuuki took a seat on the bench as well. Still unsure of what to say, he stayed silent as he watched the water sprouting from the fountain and down into the pool below.

“It’s relaxing, isn’t it?” Kitagawa broke the silence between them. “I frequently come here when I need some time away, or when I need inspiration.”

Yuuki didn’t reply. What was there to say? He didn’t need time away. In fact, he needed the opposite. He should probably get back to practicing already. He was starting to get antsy.

“You know,” Kitagawa apparently still had more to say. Wonderful. “Dancing and singing are art forms, just like painting. Idols themselves really are artists. I always admired them for that reason, and found myself wanting to expand my horizons outside of just a singular art form. However-” The ''however” caught Yuuki’s attention, and he looked to Kitagawa. “-Just like with painting, there is such a thing as practicing too much. How long were you in that practice room for?”

“Since dance lessons ended so...” Yuuki counted up the hours in his head. “About 3 and a half hours I think.”

“And did you take a break once in that time?”

“No.”

“Ah, see? You have to give yourself a chance to rest.”

“I don’t have time to rest. I have to work as much as I can. I have to catch up to everyone else. Almost everyone in the school is ranked higher than me, including-” Yuuki stopped himself. No, it would be selfish to mention her. It wasn’t his fault she was so much better than him.

“Including your sister, correct?” Kitagawa asked, looking to Yuuki.

Yuuki sighed. “Yeah. Including her. She’s always been better than me. She was our parents’ clear favorite. The ace student, the soccer MVP, the Theatre star... I always paled in comparison to her. So I have to keep working harder, so I can be on her level.”

It was something Yuuki had dealt with since his sister was born. In everything she did, she shined brighter than him. Everything became about her. She was the center of their lives, and Yuuki was almost completely forgotten. He always tried to work himself harder, push himself more, fight on despite exhaustion, but nothing ever worked for them. He was never good enough. He thought that maybe, just maybe, attending the Atlas Idol Academy would change that but of course it didn’t. His sister climbed far above him almost instantly, and ended up near the top of the rankings, while he stayed near the bottom.

“So you want to climb up to the top of this school’s ranking? And you think you can do that by dancing on an injured ankle?”

The question cut hard on Yuuki. Well, yeah, when he puts it like that of course it sounds bad. “No but...”

“You know, I was the same with my own paintings, at a time. I watched even younger artists soar above me. Naturally, my first reaction was that I wasn’t working hard enough. So I pushed myself more. First I gave up sleeping, then eating, then so much as putting the brush down for a few seconds. Despite my greatest effort, everything I painted turned out... soulless. They lacked emotion, meaning, everything. It wasn’t until I injured my wrist, and passed out from exhaustion, that I realized how much damage I was doing not only to myself, but to my art.” Kitagawa sighed and looked back to the fountain. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Yuuki stared at the fountain as he processed his classmate’s words. He understood but... that was different right? Wasn’t it? If he worked harder, if he pushed himself, he’d be the best. “It’s just not the same situation.”

“Not the exact same, but there are striking similarities. What will you do if your ankle gets worse, or if you pass out. You’re determined about this audition, are you not? If you end up hurt, you’ll only cause yourself to not be able to participate at all.”

Yuuki knew he was right but... but... No. No buts this time. “...I know...” He muttered. It kind of sucked to admit, but Kitagawa may have had a point. He couldn’t audition if he ended up hospitalized.

“Good.” Kitagawa smiled and got up. “So, what are your plans now?”

Yuuki rose as well, stretching his arms as he did so. “I think I’ll go back to my room for now. My ankle feels better, but I’ll keep an eye on it and go to the infirmary if things get worse. And uh...thanks for looking out for me. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. Contact me anytime you’re in need of a reminder. Would you like me to escort you to your dorm?”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all.” Without really thinking, Yuuki offered his arm to Kitagawa, who...actually took it? He realized a second too late what he had done, and averted his gaze to hide the dusting of pink on his face. Not that anyone could see it with how dark it was.

The two walked arm in arm together until they reached Yuuki’s dorm room. They said their good nights before parting ways, and Yuuki went straight to bed so he could rest up for the next day. In the time following, Yuuki followed his own pace, and found himself able to master the routine in time for the audition, leading to his group acing the audition with flying colors. He still fell into his old mindset from time to time, but when he did, his new friend was there, always supportive, always willing to remind him to work at his own pace to be the best he could be.

#persona 5 #persona #p5 #yuuki mishima #yusuke kitagawa #Anonymous #mailbox

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midnigtartist · 6 years ago

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6. The super long kiss that wasn’t intended

He knows he should be watching the treeline. Sat beside Nott at the front of the cart, Molly knows that he ought to be scanning the tree line for any potential threats to their merry band as they weave their way through the valley. But he just can’t seem to get himself to focus on the slow passing trees as Nein marches southward. His gaze keeps slipping from the road, as he glanced over his shoulder at the wizard curled up in the back of the cart.

As to be expected, he’s got a book propped up in his lap. One of the spellbook he keeps strapped to his side, Molly notes, as he carefully and meticulously sifts through their recent spoils. The faint hum of arcane energy hangs in the air around him. It pricks at the back of Molly’s neck, making the hair there stand on edge and that’s why he’s been so distracted, and certainly not because Caleb looks so darling and content with his task, a small smile curling at the corner of his lips.

No, Molly thinks wryly to himself, it’s certainly nothing to do with that. Not at all.

He swings his legs over the side of the cart bench, earning and disgruntled yelp from Nott as she’s jostled by the movement. Molly ignores this, instead watching Caleb’s, dare he says, giddy smile as the pearl clasped tight in his hand dulls, and he picks up the bracelet he’s been inspecting. Sliding off the bench, Mollymauk seats himself cross legged at the perimeter of Caleb’s pile of spoils, resting his cheek to his fist.

“Anything interesting?”

Caleb starters, but only a little, his head jolting up and eyes blinking as he takes in the new addition to his ring of shiny things. Molly offers him a curling, close mouth smile in lue of a proper greeting.

Caleb nods, pulling at his beard. “Ja, this-” he gestured vaguely over the lot of stuff, a crooked grin on his face. “This ist gut. There is a lot a usefully things here.”

“Almost finished then?” Molly asks.

“Oh yah, I just have to look over these rings for Jester, you know, and then that will be all of it but ahhhh- you have come over here? Is- is there something you need?” the thrill the magic gives him, seems to bear wearing off and Molly can see Caleb slowly receding back into his shell. And that simply won’t do.

He shrugs “Not particularly. This is fascinating, by the way.”

Caleb lowers his gaze to his spellbook. He twiddles and twists the pearl between his fingers and Molly tracks the movement because that’s fascinating too. Caleb’s long fingers rolling the small bead between them is truly something and he can feel the slight flush crawling up his neck.

“You have seen me identify objects before,,,” Caleb mutters.

“And I find it thrilling every time!” he says. He leans forward so his elbows are pressed into his knees. “I think it’s just wonderful, that. How you can learn all of that stuff just from looking at it for a few minutes. It’s very impressive!”

Caleb shrugs, but Molly spies a phantom of a smile touching the corner of his mouth and he finds himself beaming all the wider for it.

“Well you know, there is a bit more to it then that but it is ahhh,, nerd shit.”

“What I’ve learned from traveling with the lot of you terrible people is that nerd shit tends to be the shit that keeps us alive. It’s very useful shit. Don’t sell your shit short Caleb, it’s very good shit! Quality, even.” he says. Somewhere to the right of him, he can hear Jester cackling. He keeps his eyes and his smile trained on Caleb, who’s actually turned a bit to face him.

“Ha ha.” it’s not a laugh, not really. It more just the noise, but it’s so endearing that Molly’s insides squirm with delight at the sound. “I suppose you are right- about that at least.”

“You’d be surprised by how much I’m right about, actually.” Molly says.

This time Caleb does laugh, even if all it is a huff of air. “Mister Mollymauk.”

“Mister Caleb”

The pearl rolls between his thumb and forefinger. “Would you like learn a magic trick? I, you know, I have tried teaching Jester before, and umm, Beauregard but, they don’t, well, they really do not have the patience for this sort of thing.”

He cocks his head to the side. “And you think I do?”

“I have seen you mend your coat.” Caleb says, actually leveling his clear blue gaze on Molly, effectively pinning him in place. “That embroidery is your handy work, hmm? Something like that takes a lot of time.”

Molly draws back so that he’s sitting up straight. “Well as flattering as it is to know you keep eye on me.” Caleb flushes. “-I don’t think I’m quite clever enough to do what it is you do dear.”

Magic, at least, the magic Caleb does, seems to require a lot of reading, and reading has never really agreed with Mollymauk Tealeaf. It makes his eyes hurt and his whole brain revolt against him, can even give him a terrible headache if he forces himself to work at it for too long.

Caleb’s brows draw together, forming deep creases between his eyes. “It is not that hard.” he says.

Molly flashes him a tight smile. “Yes, but I’m not that smart.”

The wizard shuts his spellbook with a forceful snap that makes Molly’s tail jump and curl up behind him. “Come here, Mollymauk.” Caleb says, commands really, Molly thinks with a shiver. “I will not force you, if you do not wish, but do not withhold just because you think that you might not be clever enough. I will be the judge of that.”

“Well when you put it so nicely,,,” Molly says, praying to the Weaver that he sound relatively unaffected by whatever that was. He slides over so that he’s sitting next to Caleb, instead of across from him. “So, what will I be learning then?”

Caleb hesitates, but only for a moment before he opens his book back up, and shuffles over so that Molly can see the pages, balancing it on his knee.

“Something simple, I think.”

“Oh goody.”

Even the creak of the branches in the wind sounds ominous, which Molly thinks is rather ridiculous and painfully cliche. His blade, glowing with a warm, white light, is wrapped up in the tails of his coat to dull it’s radiance as Molly creeps along low in the brush. The Nein had decided, against Molly’s better judgement, decided to travel a few hours past sunset.

“The next town isn’t that far, guys.” Jester had told them, brandishing the map with the same ferocity with which she handles her sickle. “We’ve been on the road for daaaaaaaaaaays and my feet are getting all tired and gross from walking so much and I just want to sleep in a bed and not in the grass and wake up with like, bugs in my hair and stuff.”

So they’d marched on, and now they’re paying the price because not only is it a good couple of hour past sunset, but they’d been assaulted by some ruffians. Taking advantage of the exhausted state of the party, they’d managed to stop them, rob them, and make off with Jester’s haversack of holding. With so much of their valuable shit in that bag, they’d decided to give chase, and had gotten spread pretty thin in the processes. Which, isn’t such a bad thing, Molly’d been able to pick off a few of the bandits, spread thin themselves, quickly and quietly. But he’s worried about everyone else. If they were unlucky enough to run into more of the bastards then they could handle alone, with Jester possible very, very far away. That could make things a bit more sticky.

Of course, they’re all pretty capable, decently strong. And yet,,, Molly’s worried about some, specifically squishy members of their party.

He’ll- they’ll be fine.

He marches on deeper into the woods.

A bit of time later, the sound of muffled voices hit Molly’s ears. Not long after does he spy the flicker of firelight through the leaves, painting speckled shadows along forest floor.

Molly pauses a moment, tucking himself against a rotting old tree trunk. Peeking over the top of it he can just barely make out a group of darkened figured, hooting and hollering like idiots around a makeshift camp. Why do petty thieves always do that? Make a whole fucking ton of noise that gives away their position. Every single band of thieves he’s ever run into does it. It’s just not smart. Though, if they were smart enough to understand that they probably wouldn’t be out here robbing well seasoned mercenary groups, he thinks. He counts the shadows, or at least he tries to. The back lighting from the fire is fucking up his night vision but he thinks he sees four or five distinct individuals. Too many to take out alone.

Reaching into his pocket with his free hand, he pulls out a little piece of wire. Its difficult, harder with only one hand, but he manages to wrap the bit of copper around his finger and brings it up to his lips. He points out into the woods in the general direction he thinks he saw people running. “Found a group of them. Looks like five maybe? North. Just past that one rock that looks remarkably like a penis. Oh ! and you can reply to this message” he whispers into his fist.

Molly does this eight more time, hoping that if he casts a wide enough net he’ll be able to get in touch with at least some of the Nein. Between not knowing exactly where everyone is and the, frankly concerning, fizzle of the spell against his lips he not sure how many of them got the message. On the fourth time, he hears Jester’s cackling rattling around in his skull. It’s a horrible bizarre feeling that makes his skin tingle,and not even in the fun way. On the sixth one he hears Beau’s exasperated “real fucking mature, man” and has to stifle a chuckle. On the last one, it’s Caleb’s voice ringing around in his skull.

“I see the rock you are talking about. oh- ja it does look like a dick.” He says. “I am making my way over to you now.”

Molly waits, one eye on the trees around him, one on the group of bandits, watching for any strange movement. Maybe one of them will come over here to take a piss. He could take them out nice and quite, and that would be one less shit head to deal with.

The bushes to his right rustle and Molly tightens his grip on his sword. Caleb comes sprinting out of the underbrush towards him, crouched low to the ground to avoid being spotted. Molly can’t even even get a word of greeting out before Caleb is suddenly upon him, hands reaching to curl around the lapel of his coat.

The wizard is positively beaming at him, his face cracked with a wide smile Molly has only ever seen him give Nott. His eyes are practically glowing, wide and excited and full of pride. He’s on Molly in an instant huddled against the rotten log alongside him and Molly is stunned.

“You cast message!” Caleb says, barely able to keep his voice to a stage whisper for the excitement. His hands come up, cupping Molly’s face between them and immediately the teifling feels himself start to color. Thumbs rub over his cheeks, Caleb squishing his face between his calloused palms “You cast the spell, you did the thing that I showed you! Oh! I am so proud! I am so proud of you! You are brilliant Mollymauk. I could kiss you!”

Well, that makes Molly’s heart do all sorts of ill advised and complicated gymnastics in his chest.

He puts a shaking hand on Caleb’s knee. “Don’t say thing you don’t intent to follow through on, Mister Caleb.”

Brain seeming to have caught up with his mouth, Caleb pales, then flushes a deep scarlet. His hand stay cupped around Molly’s cheeks, though they do lessen they’re squeezing a bit. His gaze falls past Molly’s right shoulder. “I ahh- right. I was- well I got a little excited I suppose,,,”

“Happens to the best of us.” he gives Caleb leg a friendly jiggle “Your secret’s safe with me”

Caleb chuckles.

They don’t move. They’re still dreadfully, painfully close. Annoyingly, not close enough. He watches as Caleb’s gaze flickers back over to his face. Watches the way his sharp, ever curious blue eyes trace the curve of his palm where it’s pressed into Molly cheek, all the way down to the corner of his mouth. He leans in.

The center of gravity suddenly shifts and Mollymauk Tealeaf finds himself crashing against Caleb’s warm mouth. Its quick, but it’s everything.

Caleb presses his lips firmly to Mollymauk’s for a brief moment, pulling him in with the fingers still curved around his jaw. Molly gasps, fingers tightening around the fabric of Caleb’s pant leg. He lets his eyes flutter shut. And then the warmth is gone and Molly opens his eyes to see the wizard staring at him, wide eyed and flushed. Still his hands don’t move from Molly’s face.

“I should not have done that. I-”

Molly brings his other hand up to the back of Caleb’s neck and pulls him forward. Their lips meet again and Molly can taste the crackle of arcane power that lingers on them. It shoots a thrill down his spine. The hand on Caleb’s knee tangles into the coarse fur lining of his coat and Molly sigh, deep and wanting against the other man’s mouth.

To his glorious surprise, Caleb responds in kind. His hands begin to move, one sliding down his face to rest at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, those long, scholarly fingers spanning across his throat, making Molly shiver. The other tangles into the short curls at the back of his neck, drawing Molly even closer.

Molly breaths through the kiss, eyes shut tight as he focuses on the feeling. Of dry and ragged ruined lips against his own. On the slight scratch of stubble against his chin and the rough pads of Caleb’s fingers on his skin. He feels exactly like he looks, coarse and rough around the edges. Nothing like the soft, sweet smelling hired company that Molly’s used to. He finds he likes this much better. The earthy smell that clings to weather battered skin, mixed in with faint hints of whatever spell components line Caleb’s pockets. Licorice and molasses.

Caleb sighs against him, tilting his head for a better angle. Molly puts all other thoughts out of his head. Forgets about the bandits at his back, and his friends stomping through the underbrush. Even forgets about their stole bag of good. He put his facilities to better use, memorizing the shape and heat of Caleb’s lips against his own

Molly parts his lips and prods at Caleb’s lower lip with the twin prongs of his forked tongue, makes a soft sound of pleasure as Caleb’s fingers tighten in his hair. Caleb jumps under his hands, pulling away. He desperately wants to follow, but Molly let him go, keeping fingers folded against the lapels of his coat, half to keep himself grounded, half to keep Caleb from bolting before he can find his voice again.

“Don’t you dare apologize for that.” He crooks out after a moment.

Caleb stares at him with blown out blue eyes. He swallows, runs a hand across his jaw. His fingers linger against his lips. “Ja- okay,,, That was ahhh-”

“That was good.” Molly assures him, stroking fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Caleb nods, looking a little unsure. “Gut, ja. You know, uhh maybe we should- should, you know- maybe we could do that again, sometime. But I think we should probably take care of those bandits first.”

A smile splits Molly’s face. “Think we can take them, just the two of us?

“No.” Caleb hands come back around to cup his cheeks, then slip down, coming to rest against the front of Molly’s coat “We are pretty tough, but you said that there were at least five of them. I do not want us taking any unnecessary risks.” he starts fidgeting with Molly’s coat, adjusting it on his shoulder and smoothing out the silk with his hands. “Clever boy.” Molly says, fondness laced into his words.

Caleb doesn’t meet his gaze, but he does smile.

The sound of twigs snapping catch their attention and moments later Beau comes slinking out of the bushes, a new bruise swelling up over her eye. Caleb hands fall away. Molly keeps fingers pressed lightly against the side of his knee.

“That’s a good look on you.” he says, once Beau is close enough.

“Thanks asshole.” Beau wedges her way between the two of them, elbowing Molly in the stomach as she does.

He whizzes out a pained laugh.

#critical role #widomauk #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #request closed #midnigtwrites #this is soft yall

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dwindlingashesburnt · 5 years ago

Text

"Secrets" vs Secrets

I tell myself I'm an open person who tries to, and wants to, discuss stuff about myself and preferably receive the same from others. But I don't, not really, I share "secrets" but not secrets

I share, for example, laughing as though it's funny, how I and H never really talked until A joined the group. How A made our friendship group work

I don't share how scared and jealous I was. How I didn't know A well, and was divided between being angry on her behalf for her shitty ex-friends, or angry at her, because H was the only one I had even if at that point we barely counted as acquaintances, and I was really scared A and H would go off and I would be alone again. Or how, at times, I thought H was better than A or vice versa and wanted to be friends with one of them and the other to leave. How sometimes I felt so guilty for that. How sometimes I didn't feel guilty for it at all, but knew I should, and wondered if that made me a bad person

I share how I feel like when I'm alone with Iz, we both become really awkward and never really manage to have a decent conversation alone. I don't share how I sometimes get caught up in the differences, because I worry they mean we're not as close or I won't act as though we're as close as Iz believes us it be, because I struggle with how little she talks about deep feelings, how she isn't a fan of physical affection, but am equally aware that just as I feel as though she's failing to speak my language on those levels, I'm just as highly aware that I'm utterly failing to make hers when she makes jokes or comments, and sometimes I don't understand them, or I understand them literally but can't tell if that's what she means, what she may mean if the meaning isn't that literal. I'm overly aware that in my admittedly limited circle of about 6 friends,she's the only one who isn't white, and I'm overly aware of my stupid lack of knowledge there and the subconscious tendency for me to be slightly racist and not even realise for a long moment, and how I try to fix that, but maybe not hard enough? What if she picks up on it? What if I fuck up badly and say something awful? I'm a pathetic coward for not being able to address her about this to her face, I know, but I equally fret that if I did force myself to tell her this or ask her to call me out if I do mess up, that this may be overstepping a line - I know for example that many lgbt people get angry when people ask a lot of questions in a poor manner, for acting like they have no choice but to sit there and be a source of information instead of a person. Does the same apply here? Would I be doing that to Iz? I do not want to hurt her. As much as I don't understand her, I like her, I consider her a friend...I feel awful for thinking about her like this. I don't know how to fix this, or if it needs fixing - maybe as far as she's aware, there's nothing wrong except mild awkwardness, and I just need to fix my issues on my own time. I don't know

I share how I don't really want to go to the school counsellor or whatever because I don't think they address such serious stuff, I have always been given the impression that they address things like exam stress and bullying only, and that even then they dont address it very well it seems. I share how I'm worried things would get back to my mother

I don't share how I'm also afraid it would get out to my friends, the decent people in my family, the school. I don't share that I'm afraid if I went, the counsellor would write everything I say down and then take it back, report every word to my mother, my abuser - and I'm aware this is in all likelihood a ridiculous fear but it is a real fear to me. I'm scared that, even if no specific information got back to my parents or family, they may be informed/find out I'm going to counselling at school, if not why or anything - and I hate and fear the idea of that. I don't know HOW I'd get to see a counsellor at school, meaning I'd like to have to go via teachers and leading staff, meaning many of the staff would know. I don't want them to know. I don't want anyone to know. I don't want it. I'm scared I'd go to it, and the counsellor would either tell me nothing was wrong with me and send me away without help, or tell me far far more is wrong with me than I think there is and make me have to confront that. Or they'll tell me it's something entirely different from what I expect, or they won't be what I expect, or they'll call me out on my redirecting, or they'll look at me and say okay. You've told me all your problems - you've revealed you know what they are, often why they are, you've considered what you could do to solve them. What have you actually done to try and solve them? And I will be forced to look right at them and say I have done nothing, or as good as nothing. Because it is true, as much as I like to claim otherwise. I could do so much more.

I share little about how I used to be so convinced supernatural stuff was happening, how some things my sibling said seemed to match up. How unsure I am about hat was telling happening, in hindsight - was it real, dream, hallucination, daydream? I was losing time at that point in time - was I passing put for some reason, or just forgetting, or what? I half convinced myself at the time it was linked to supernatural - was this my way of covering up what didn't make sense to me? I know this was a time where I was increasingly reliant on "thought processes", as far as I know faced no physical danger but did face immense emotional stress constantly - I was convinced I could be killed any moment - and I was losing time and it felt like I was slipping out of control and then there was that night where I was not in control of my body. But someone else was and I could hear their voice and a sliver of their intentions without a full view of their big picture and I remember screaming panicking flailing at the back of my mind while at the same time, at the same time I was them and I was drifting and idle and my smile was unnatural and felt wrongwrongwrong and I was looking for the key to the window, and so too was I my body just empty, just moving, while these two within were in conflict, and I remember finally a voice, a third that was not mine or theirs, and it made them retreat, and I was in control, and I was shaking and felt like I was in shock afterward. The dreams, too. How I have wondered for a while now whether, at that stage, had DID. If that was even a possibility, or what could have caused it to happen - whether, if I did have DID, if that means that there is bad stuff I dont remember still? Wondering whether it even matters now, as I seem not to lose any time now, as I seem to have somehow fixed it. Wondering if, if I did have it, maybe I didn't 'fix it' - maybe I'm still losing time and whoever may or may not be in my head with me just got better at hiding information that would indicate as such for the sake of the system being healthy. Wondering how close I pushed myself to that stage with my refusal to deal with anything, whether if I do or did have DID, how much of that is/would be my fault. During that night I had been messaging an online friend the whole time, even when it didn't exactly feel like it was me typing - I want to discuss it with him, badly. I wonder if he remembers. I wonder if he actually knows or realises what had been going on - how, although in retrospect I realise I probably would have been unlucky to even break an ankle, I had been so scared they would find the key and open the window and jump and I would be dead with no prescense more than hysteria trapped in my own head and watching. How I sat there afterwards and a while after, when it had processed, I felt trapped and scared - so terribly scared - and desperate and actually...rather bitter or angry. Because this was a time where I felt my control and free will were practically non-existent, self harm used to make me feel I had control but then people took that from me, so that night...When that person took control and seemed like they were aiming to commit suicide, they took the last two things I felt belonged to me - my mind, and my death. I was angry and scared and desperate, and I felt so trapped I wanted to scream because it felt like everything was closing in on me so tight I wanted to rip my skin right through and climb out of it, I could barely breathe, and I'm not sure but I think I had a panic attack then (?)

I share little bits about this, but not the full extent of it - I don't DO enough and that scares me. I'm scared I'll end up alone and starving and useless because I don't do enough to socialise with the people I hace,p or nake new friends, or learn to cook or naythibg else I need. I frequently struggle even to get the things I WANT done. I'm scared there's simething wrong with me.

I have no sense of time. I don't know why - when I searched it was suggested this could be part of being subject to emotional abuse and gaslighting, depression, or dissassocitation. I know the first two are relebent to me, I don't know about the other two but I'm fairly certain if thet arent relevent now then they used to be. I struggle with things because of this - I can't tell what happened when, Ive literally said that something that turned out to have happened less than two weeks ago happened about two years ago, and vice versa.

I have massive issues with control: I make decisions either to comply entirely with what people suggest/order or do the exact opposite of what is suggested/ordered, far far far more than I actually judt make the desciison that I want or seems sensible, meaning I effectively dont have control over my decidions. I constantly lose the battle agaunst my own mind. I go into exams every day absolutely exhausted because whenever Im at all stressed, my automatic response is to deprive myself of sleep in order to prive to myself that Im in control, that I wont heed the orders of any people I know, society, or my own fucking body if it disagrees with me. But this is one area where Im veey very very wrong, especually since despite my tendency to deprive myself of sleep, I function awfully on even as much as 5 or 6 hours sleep - it makes my brain fuzzy, I function on autopilot, I strugfle to tune in or concentrate or eat......and of course thsi makes me feel out of cobtrol, so I sleep even less

I struggle to distinguish between what i genuinely want, and what are self destructive thoughts. For example - hypnosis - is this self detsructive of me or not? I don't know. I know when I used to be obsessed with the idea of bdsm, that was self destructive, tying together things I wanted and things that would harm me badly in all sorts of ways together - now I'm still attracted to incredibly specific ideas of powerplay, but I camt figure out if thats a genuine want Ive separated from all he rest, or just the new disguise my self destructive tendencies are now wearing. Same with ideas of sex - explicit references to sex, as in acyual genitals an dstuff, makes me feel uncomfortable, grossed out, unsafe, nervous. But I like stuff that is intended to be expicit or pornographic - but stays almost entirely as mental games, and feelings, no physical stuff or sex stuff please. But wheres the line here? I don't know.

(This is tmi but sometimes I get really frustrated, and feel very alone and angry and ashamed....because with vague stuff like I mentioned, I enjoy it, I get pretty aroused, it's good. But if I try to deal with it, like masturbate or anything, it ruins it because then I feel gross and unsafe and very much like I want to cry. So although I want to be able to enjoy myself sexually, it inevitably ends either in failed masturbation making me want to cry, or in me eventually losing interest in the activity but my body fails to correspond properly so I'm forced to be there, struggling to distract myself from how my body is still aroused, and feeling increasingly ashamed and self pitying and stupid while that's happening. Neither are good and I hate it because I know I can like, feel all hot and nice and stuff, but there is no way i can have that without it ending in misery one way or another. And of course both make me feel very distanced from my body, inevitably making me feel very very insecure)

I used to age regress. Not sexually, but just...to deal with things. Because my problems are generally big, overwhelming and complex, I was able to put them in the box of "grown up stuff" in my head, and it wasnt the same as repressing it or ignoring it - it was still very much there, and I was very much aware of it, but it just didn't register as important to me while in 'little space', which meant I was able to relax, feel safe and happy and vulnerable without fear for a few hours, and then I could gradually ease myself back into opening that box up again and be able to deal with all of it in a much better fashion because I would be so much calmer, with a clear head.

Except obviously, when i was in little space I acted childishly. Not overwhlemingly so, I don't think? But I'd speak weird, and be very overenergetic and stuff, and I'd be a bit jsut different. Problem was....I had nobody to take care of me when I was in little space, and nobody made me feel safe to even be around - even if they didnt know what was happening, some people like my mother were deliberately cruel about my acting immature and whatever, some friends just...questioned it a lot and asked me to calm down a lot, and some theoretically were absolutely okay with it but just seemed so obviously to be humouring me......It upset me a lot to get that sort of reaction in little space when I was so much more vulnerable emotionally. And it just...escalated. very quickly, the constant mantra of "they hate me they hate me they hate me why am I here I shouldnt be doing this they hate me they hate me" had infiltrated my little space as well as my normal life and I could no longer just file it away in the "grown up box" for an hour or three

I tried only age regressing on my own, but as a kid I was afraid of being alone, and now I'm afraid of being alone, so ultimately all it did was make me feel helpless, incredibly lonely and put me in a state emotionally vulnerable enough that what I would normally get over fairly easily quickly had me hysterical. I also started losing control of going in and out of it? Easing myself in and out of it was vital for it to actually help me, but I started rapidly falling into little space as I became more and more distressed and panicky and miserable in normal life, and equally (largely due to other people, but then after due to my own emotions) started crashing after little space instead of gradually easing out of it - which not only undoes any and all good that little time may have done, it also makes me feel unsafe, empty in an awful way, miserable, and overall awful.

Eventually I stopped regressing at all

And that made me pretty miserable - because while i found other ways to solve issues, I lost the ability to just put it on pause for a while. I almost never am able to relax, I sometimes relax more than other times, but when I stopped regressing I lost the only time I felt safe enough to relax COMPLETELY. And while I know at least some of my friends and family love me unconditionally, and are proud of me, feeling it is another thing entirely - and when I was little I was absolutely certain on that, and that carried over into normal life giving me confidence. Now i don't have that.

The other day A, me, an english teacher and a classmate were discussing stuff in class, and it somehow got onto people who identify as an age (??? Never heard of that before and personally think it makes no sense, but anyway) and that led onto age regression as a method of coping?

I spent most of that part of the conversation feeling like I wanted to participate, but equally wanting not to sound too passionate or knowledgeable because he was there, a TEACHER was there, and I could feel A's eyes on me, god I was so aware of A and so terrified she'd turn around and say she hated me.

But. But that conversation made me want it again, and feel sad about it because I know I can't- like literally, I cannot, it's been plagued with bad stuff enough that I don't feel able to and I'm constantly so incredibly tense and feel do unsafe I cannot relax enough to slip into little space and haven't been able to for probably two years, but i have no idea, because as previously mentioned I'm crap with time. It also made me kinda wanna mention the fact that I used to do it to my friends? Idk

I'm just. I'm very very aware that while I want to be, and lie to myself saying I am, an open person, I'm aware there's a lot of stuff I keep quiet (thid is oh so little of it) and what's more, I lie about the little things. CONSTANTLY. So. So I'm a fake.

I just....I don't know

I don't know what more to write

#DID #dissassocitation #mental illness #mentions of self harm #reference to suicide #emotional abuse #sex stuff #age regression #venting #oh my god im a mess #lies #secrets #im a awful failure of ahuman bring basically #and my friends are like no youre not! you never do anything freaky!#and im like #yeah i do! i judt dont mention it #or lie aabout it!#im an awful person

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